


My Alpha

by Zoe13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, near-death situations leh gasp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 03:18:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe13/pseuds/Zoe13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles saves Derek from a wolfsbane bullet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still laughing at how awful that summary is hahaha  
> This isn't the fanfic I mentioned in my other fanfic- it's just a side thing.

While the shaky truce with the Argents had been strengthening over time, Stiles still hated hunters. For rather obvious reasons. 

"Scott! On your left!" He shouted. The werewolf ducked to the side and threw the hunter on his left into the trees before he could pull the trigger. With a grateful nod, Scott jumped back into the melee. 

They'd been trapped during a training session, and Stiles had nowhere to go. He had a gun, but was scared that he'd hit one of the werewolves- and he'd rather sit out than shoot one of them. 

Scanning the clearing quickly, he examined the pack. Isaac had a gash down his arm that was healing slowly but steadily. Scott was unharmed except for a few inevitable bruises, and Derek, Boyd, and Jackson all seemed the same. Isaac was limping slightly, but Stiles didn't figure it was too bad. Erica's head was bleeding, and the way she staggered had Stiles guessing that she had a concussion. She was holding her own alright, though, and Stiles figured she'd be healed soon enough. When fighting, it took a werewolf longer to heal.

Then Isaac was down, not badly hurt but about to be, and Stiles had to trust his shooting skills as he fired several times. The hunters surrounding Isaac fell, three dead and the fourth clutching his leg. Stiles realized he was out of bullets, and bit his lip nervously as the snarling and shouts rang louder and louder. 

Unconsciously, his eyes sought out Derek. The alpha was surveying the scene. Stiles' gaze turned upon a hunter by accident and he saw the gun come up, saw the man aim-

-and lunged. He didn't realize he'd done it until he was by the alpha, until something slammed into his side, until he was sliding to the ground. But he knew that years of thinking wouldn't have made his decision any different. 

"Stiles!" Derek's voice seemed distant. Stiles hit his back, but he barely noticed as he stared up at the sky. It hurt like hell, but there was also a numbing sensation. 

Around him the sounds grew louder and more fierce as his pack panicked, taking it out on the hunters. 

"Stiles, can you hear me?"

"Yes," he managed, but just barely, reaching a shaking hand down to his side. Derek knelt by him and laid his hand over Stiles'. 

"Stiles, you idiot-"

"Wolfsbane...w-would have killed...you." Stiles groaned in pain as he spoke, closing his eyes tightly. Derek yanked off his tattered button up shirt and ripped it, folding one half and pressing it into Stiles' side. 

"Damn you, Stiles, I'm an alpha. I'm supposed to protect my pack-"

"Shut up." Stiles glared and then groaned again. "You're th-the alpha. Like...you said."

"Stiles! Stay awake!" Derek shook him as his eyes began to close. The sounds of fighting had stopped and Stiles realized the hunters must have retreated. "I'm taking you to Deaton. He has-"

"Derek. It's...alright. I- I figured it would happen...sooner than l-later." Stiles breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. Reaching out blindly, he grasped Derek's hand. "Stay...with me?"

"Of course. I- damn it, Stiles, I need to do something!" Derek's eyes were wet, and Stiles realized he was crying. The pack had crowded around and were watching silently, unsure as to what they should do. "No, Stiles, stay awake! You can't leave me- how am I supposed to live with this? I'm the alpha! I'm supposed to protect you, not the other way around..." Derek's voice cracked. 

"Yes, Derek, y-you're the...alpha. They need...you." 

"But I need you!"

"You're the alpha," Stiles repeated, smiling weakly and touching Derek's cheek. "My...alpha." Sighing one last time, Stiles fell back, his eyes closing and his hand falling away from Derek's face. 

"Stiles!" Derek's howl echoed through the trees. Scooping up the frail figure, he ran. For a moment he'd thought the boy was dead and his own heart had seemed to stop until he'd sensed the dull pounding of Stiles' struggling heart. With each beat his feet flew faster. He ran more swiftly than he ever had before, unconscious of anything but StilesStilesStiles. 

He no longer cared that Stiles was human, he no longer cared that he hadn't loved since Kate. He simply let himself love Stiles for the length of that race that seemed to stretch on for hours, agonizing hours that could mean the life of the boy in his arms. 

Finally, he reached the veterinary and burst through the door, ignoring Deaton's surprised look as he laid Stiles on the table. 

"Wolfsbane bullet, left side," he choked, watching Stiles' face. It was even paler then normal, and his pulse was growing weaker by the second. Deaton dropped his book and ran around, throwing things at Derek for him ti hold and shouting orders to him. Derek pressed a towel to Stiles' wound and felt ridiculous as more tears threatened to fall. 

He had to be strong. He was the alpha. 'My alpha,' Stiles had said. 

Deaton pushed him out of the way, pulling the towel off. "I've never tried this, so let's hope it works," he said, pulling a rag out of the bowl in his hand. It came out stained blue. He laid it on the gaping wound, grimacing slightly at the large puddle of blood dripping onto the floor. Rubbing the blue liquid into the wound, Deaton pulled the rag away and stepped back. Derek waited with bated breath. 

Then the wound began to knit itself together, the skin searing into itself and forming a small scar. There was still a blue tint to the skin. 

"It's healing inside him too," Deaton explained, and Derek let himself hope that maybe Stiles wouldn't die, that maybe he could throttle him and kiss him and tell him he loved him instead of convincing himself that he shouldn't. 

With a sudden gasp, Stiles shot up, hand clutching his side. 

"Wh- what happened?" He breathed. 

"Deaton healed you," Derek said wonderingly. Deaton stepped forward and looked Stiles over. 

"I'll write to Scott," he told Derek, leaving the room. Derek nodded, feeling breathless as he stared at Stiles.

"You fucking bastard," he finally said, lunging forward and pulling Stiles close. Stiles laughed weakly. 

"Nice to see you too, Sourwolf."

"For a moment I thought you were dead." Derek pulled back and looked Stiles in the eyes. "I thought that you'd died saving me and it felt unbearable."

"I'm sorry- are you crying?" Derek turned from Stiles' searching gaze. "Derek...don't cry. It's alright, I'm here." Reaching out, Stiles grasped Derek's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. "Don't cry," he repeated. 

"We need you, Stiles. I never said it before, but we need you. I need you. You keep me grounded and I can't have you die." Derek felt so weak, so open, but he couldn't stop talking. "When you were laying there, I could see it all too clearly- waking up and knowing you were gone, meeting with the lack and nit having you there to keep us together. Just living our lives seemed like it would be impossible."

"I'm sorry Derek, but I just couldn't have you die."

"I'd rather die then have you die," Derek told him.

"And I feel the same, which is why I did it, Derek. Because- well, because I love you."

Derek didn't hesitate for even a second. He leaned in and kissed Stiles before the boy could say another word. He pulled him tight, trying to reassure himself that he was fine, trying to memorize every inch of him as if he would disappear at any second. 

"Thank you," Stiles whispered as they pulled apart. "My alpha."

**Author's Note:**

> Revieeeeeew the shitty storyyyyyyyy


End file.
